Lesser Than You
by slashko
Summary: "Draco's feelings for Harry were always based, in a great part, on envy." - Pottermore. 8th year. Harry/Draco slash. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This was very fun to write. I don't usually write fanfiction or romance but I love this pairing so much. And I have to say that while writing this, I feel like I've been influenced by Faith Wood and Maya a bit, who are a couple of my favourite fanfic authors, so that's no real surprise. I will be posting chapters regularly. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or these characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"_Draco's feelings for Harry were always based, in a great part, on envy_." – Pottermore

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

For years, Draco Malfoy had always thought that he wanted to be more like Potter. The 'famous Harry Potter,' 'The Boy Who Lived,' the one every child grew up hearing about. The one everyone knew and loved—or even loved to hate. He wanted to be that, but for the other side.

It was only until the war actually picked up that he realised how positively frightening that prospect was. He couldn't handle it, he couldn't kill Dumbledore and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't be the Harry Potter of the Dark Side. When the war was over, Draco knew that wasn't what he wanted anymore.

But there was still something about Potter. Something that Draco had always longed for, something that he still feels with a burning intensity every time he looks at him.

It took seven years, but he finally realised just what that something was. Draco didn't want to _be like_ him; he wanted to be _with _him.

As in _holding hands_ being with him. As in _dating_ and _kissing_ and all the other unspeakable activities Draco wanted to do with Potter. Frankly, it was disturbing. He wished he could go back to being simply envious of Potter.

This troubling realisation might not have bothered Draco all that much, if he could just never see Potter again and try to forget about it. But, as Draco had come to expect lately, things haven't been going his way.

Ever since the start of the school year, Potter seemed to be everywhere. Popping up at random corners of the castle wherever Draco went. This happened in Sixth Year too, of course, but this time it was as though Potter wasn't even trying to hide it. Draco just couldn't catch a break, could he? The war was over and Potter was _still _suspicious of him being up to something? What more did he have to do? Cut his left arm off to be rid of the Dark Mark once and for all?

Potter would bump into him in the hallways, graze Draco with his arm before righting him again with his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Alright, Malfoy?" he'd say. Draco wondered what the poison Potter surely must have smeared on his robe was. Draco had checked several times, but the only thing he could ever trace was Potter's scent. Which, when Draco smelt it—a kind of cinnamon smell and something that was just so _male_ and _Potter_—he wondered if that was the real poison after all. _Maybe it was Amortentia,_ Draco thought dazedly.

Not only did Potter seem to touch him every chance he could get, but his eyes also appeared to follow Draco everywhere he went. It was like having the Borgin and Burkes shopkeeper eyeing you suspiciously, and even though you know you're not going to steal anything, just the very weight of the shopkeeper's stare has you acting all weird and making you seem even more of the criminal you aren't.

Because Draco wasn't a criminal. He was excused from his war crime trail, thank you very much. With the help of Potter, that is. After Draco apologised to him for everything he could apologise for. Which meant that Potter was both accusing him of being a criminal and attesting that he wasn't. Draco frowned. His thoughts tended to make less sense these days.

Potter was much more attractive than Mr. Borgin of course, which had the effect of making Draco all the more unnerved by his stare. But when Draco looked back at him, Potter would just smile.

Which was what he was doing right now as he took the seat next to Draco in Potions class. Draco, immersed in his thoughts of Potter, quickly looked around the room, wondering how this could be happening. Pansy had ditched him for Blaise, he saw. Weasley and Granger were sitting at a table of their own. And everyone else already had a partner.

"There's nowhere else for me sit," Potter said, as though Draco hadn't just seen that for himself.

Draco said nothing. Which was strange, considering he always had something to say to Potter. When had that ever changed? Just as he opened his mouth to finally say something, Professor Slughorn told the class to quiet down. Draco scowled.

"Take a good look at whoever you're sitting with, because that person will be your partner for the rest of the year!" Slughorn announced happily, quite in contrast with Draco's deepening scowl. Potter seemed to be on Slughorn's side, as he too, was smiling at Draco again.

_Quit smiling at me. _

Draco was so caught up in Potter's smile—he actually had a dimple if you looked hard enough, of course he had a bloody dimple—that he didn't listen to a word of Slughorn's instructions and was beginning to panic a little when everyone started to move around.

"We're to make a Hiccoughing Solution." Potter pointed to the board.

"I knew that," Draco snapped.

Potter shrugged. "You seemed to be in a world of your own." He gathered the ingredients and Draco snatched the Valerian Sprigs.

Slughorn passed their table. "I'm sure with Harry's help here, you'll be able to brew a better potion than you did in Sixth Year." He nodded to Draco before winking at Potter.

Draco clenched the sprigs in his fist. Potter jumped in. "Sir, you know I only did well because I had Snape's potions book," he said rather earnestly.

Slughorn's smile faded. "Now, Harry, I'm sure the potions genius is still in you somewhere!"

"I doubt it, sir."

Slughorn frowned then joined Weasley and Granger's table where Weasley seemed to be hiccoughing while Granger looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

"I knew it was too good to be true," Draco sneered.

Potter merely shrugged. "Guess we'll have to work hard together if we want to do well in this class." And then he smiled that dimpled smile again and Draco promptly forgot what they were talking about.

* * *

"It was horrible, Pans," Draco moaned later on in the evening. They were having dinner in the Great Hall. Draco had one hand propping his head up while the other moved the food on his plate with his fork. "He kept smiling at me."

"Remind me how that's horrible again?" Pansy was now serving herself a generous amount of jelly for dessert.

When Draco had confessed with the deepest of confidences to her of his crush on Potter, he assumed she would be as horrified as he was. Instead, Draco was treated to a reaction that was much the same as when he first told her he was gay. "Oh, I already knew that,"Pansy had said with a wave of her wand as though the issue was just a fly that could be waved off. For Draco though, the fly would come back every now and then, buzzing in his ear to continually torment him. But this whole Potter thing was an even bigger could only hope Pansy's reaction didn't mean that everyone else noticed how he drooled over Potter too. He couldn't live with the mortification.

"Because it's Potter. And he makes me act like an idiot."

"That's not anything new," Blaise injected, sitting across from Draco. Draco glowered at him.

"Maybe he likes you," Pansy said as though she were suggesting something as likely as it raining tomorrow when really she was suggesting a great hailstorm. A hailstorm that would never in a million years happen. Because other than rain, the weather was perfectly fine here. In fact, rain isn't bad weather at all. Rain is needed. Hailstorms, on the other hand—no matter how much Draco wanted them—would never happen here, and he refused to believe that they could.

"What are you mumbling about the weather for?" Blaise quirked an eyebrow.

Draco hadn't realised he'd said any of that aloud. "Nothing," he muttered. "The point is, you are out of your mind if you really believe that."

"I don't know why it's so hard to believe, Draco." She paused to feed herself a spoonful of jelly. "Last I heard, he and Ginny Weasley broke up."

"Yes, that certainly looks like they're no longer together," Draco said petulantly, nodding his head over at the Gryffindor table where Potter and the Weasley girl were chatting amicably.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "They're still friends. Like you and me." She grinned suddenly and Draco was reminded of the time he took her to the Yule Ball.

"Are you telling me that she was his beard this whole time?" Draco asked disbelievingly.

"No." She had another spoonful of jelly. "Not everyone is monosexual like you, Draco."

Draco was silent for a moment. Pansy was something like a sexuality expert, tossing around words like _monosexual_ all the time. "Be that as it may, there is still no way he will ever feel that way about me."

"Merlin, you're so stubborn." She sighed but she knew she wasn't going to get to Draco, so she continued to eat her jelly in relative peace.

* * *

If Draco thought Potter's smile was bad, he should have foreseen how bad his laugh would be on Draco's sanity. It wasn't just the sound of it, or the way his eyes would light up, or the way he'd throw his head back sometimes, or the way he'd even slap his hand against something if whatever he was laughing about was particularly funny; it was all of that and more. Draco's favourite Potter Laugh was when his nose would crinkle just a bit. He tended to do that after someone teased him about something. It made him want to tease Potter himself.

About his nose, that is. Because it was stupid. Draco caught on to his own thoughts and reprimanded himself. This crush was getting out of hand, he just categorised a favourite _laugh_ of Potter's, for Merlin's sake.

"So, listen."

Draco looked up to see Potter himself. He had turned around in his chair to face him and was smiling that dimpled smile while he had one arm on the back of his chair. Weasley and Granger did not seem concerned in the slightest that Potter was talking to him. They sat on either side of him, continuing to do their Transfigurations work. _Of course Potter could get away with talking in class._

"The Eighth Years are having a little get together down by the Hog's Head," he whispered. "It was going to be the Three Broomsticks but I know you're banned there so I had them change it."

Draco raised his eyebrows. Potter was rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand uncertainly. The image was somehow ridiculously attractive. _How can he be so attractive?_ _Having messy hair like that should make one _less_ attractive, not more so. But leave it to Potter to bend the rules like always._

"Everyone in our year is invited. So tell Parkinson and them." Potter waited for a response but Draco didn't give one. He hesitated before turning back in his chair.

"Potter!" Draco hissed. Potter turned to face him again. "What time?"

He smiled. "Nine. Sunday night."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

The party—if one could call it that—was decent enough, Draco thought. They occupied a corner of the Hog's Head and everyone had a glass or bottle of Firewhisky. He was surprised to note that many of the Eighth Years seemed to be mingling with different houses. He even saw Pansy talking with Potter. He narrowed his eyes at them.

Potter was wearing a casual and rather fetching navy blue jacket with two white stripes down the side of his arms. While Draco wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like that himself, it suited Potter remarkably. Draco blinked, did he say fetching? He meant stupid. And it suited Potter so much because Potter was equally stupid. The sleeves of his stupid jacket seemed too long for him, covering most of his hands so that only his fingers appeared, holding his bottle while he talked to Pansy. The whole picture was somehow just so… there was no other word to describe it: _cute_. Ugh, Draco may have just thrown up a little in his mouth. Calling Potter cute like one of those lovesick girls he'd imagine following Potter around. He didn't want to be compared to them but he was probably just as pathetic as them. Maybe even more so. Draco just hid it better. Or so he hoped.

"Yes, Draco, I'm afraid she's going to steal him from you," Blaise said mock gravely.

"Piss off."

Blaise laughed. "Fine, fine. I'll just leave you to your Potter-centred thoughts."

Draco frowned. He didn't think about Potter that much, did he? Potter chose that moment to look his way right after Pansy had said something and, upon seeing that Draco was already looking at him, quickly turned back to her. Draco got the distinct impression that they were talking about him and he didn't like it one bit.

His gaze shifted to the rest of the room but he wasn't sure where he could join in. Blaise was talking to Weasley and Granger now, the traitor. A bunch of Ravenclaws he didn't know where talking to some Hufflepuffs. So he took the safe option and sat down by the wall and propped his legs up, feeling a little lonely, even though he was the one who extracted himself from everyone else.

He was nursing his drink, thinking about what he was going to do after Hogwarts when he heard someone join him. He looked up and saw Potter. Of course.

"So," Potter said as he dropped himself to the floor and leaned against the wall beside Draco. "Do you fancy anyone?"

Draco promptly choked on his drink and started coughing in a manner most undignified for a Malfoy.

"You okay there?" Potter patted his back. Once Draco could breathe normally, he looked over at Potter, only to find him looking more amused than concerned. Git.

"See now I know you _do _fancy someone," Potter teased.

"And what if I did?" Draco snapped.

Potter just shrugged then took a sip of his Firewhisky. Draco allowed himself to calm down.

"This person you fancy," Potter started again and Draco's calm was short lived. Potter turned to face him. "Is it me?"

_Shit_. Draco's eyes widened. _He knows._ _He knows and he's going to make fun of me for it! _He couldn't bear that kind of humiliation. Before the high pitched denial—which would not have been convincing at all—jumped out of Draco's mouth, he collected himself enough to say as incredulously as he could, "You think if I fancied someone it would be _you_?" Draco scoffed and inwardly cringed at his lie.

Potter looked a bit surprised. "I just thought—"

"Well you thought wrong, Potter. You must really think highly of yourself. I know this is hard for you to grasp, but not everyone is in love with you." Draco didn't even know what he was saying. Words were falling out his mouth, trying hard to just push Potter away.

"Right. I got it. Sorry. It's just—" Potter was scratching the back of his head now, in that way which Draco thought was stupidly attractive. "Parkinson told me… never mind. It was probably a joke," Potter finished with a harsh laugh. He looked down at the bottle in his hands. His eyebrows were furrowed. He was probably almost as embarrassed as Draco was now. He stood up abruptly. "See you around, Malfoy."

And then he was gone and Draco breathed a sigh of relief, trying to ignore the empty feeling in his chest.

He was going to kill Pansy.

* * *

"What did you tell Potter!?" Draco accused the second he got a hold of Pansy. She had left the party last night and he couldn't find her in the common room.

"Good morning to you, too." She rolled her eyes and continued to butter her toast as though there wasn't a raging Malfoy hovering behind her.

"Why does Potter think I like him?" Draco hissed as he took the seat next to her.

"Because you do?" A voice added helpfully.

Draco turned around, ready to Obliviate whoever overheard, only to see that it was his other Slytherin friend, looking even taller than usual due to their current positions. He took a seat on the other side of Pansy. "This doesn't concern you, Blaise."

"Aw, but I so love getting in on these Potter Talks. I don't think I've had enough; they've only been going on for, oh, the entirety of our Hogwarts education." Blaise tried to snatch the bread roll off of Pansy's plate before she slapped his hand away.

"Is this how you two always greet people in the mornings?" Pansy pointed her butter knife towards Draco. "You by bringing up Potter and _you"—_Pansy then went on to point her knife at Blaise—"by stealing my food!"

Blaise put his hands up in a silent surrender then carefully took a bread roll from the offering plate in the middle of the table.

"I'm serious Pansy," Draco continued in a furious whisper, "If this is your idea of humiliating me—"

"Humiliating? What are you on about?"

"He was planning to mock me!"

Pansy's face fell into one of sympathy which made Draco equal parts relieved that she finally understood the gravity of the situation, and equal parts annoyed at the idea of anyone pitying him. "He made fun of you? Oh, Draco, I honestly didn't think he—"

"Well, he didn't actually. I told him I didn't like him before he got the chance to," Draco replied huffily.

All traces of sympathy left Pansy's face. "You did what? Draco, you idiot!"

Draco just shook his head. "I know what you're doing, Pans. But don't. Don't give me false hope."

"It isn't false hope, Draco. I swear it on my bread roll"—she held up her bread roll—"that he likes you too."

"That's a serious swear," Blaise quipped.

Draco shook his head again.

Blaise turned a little more thoughtful. "He has been seeking you out all year, hasn't he?"

"That's just because he… suspects me of evil," Draco finished rather lamely.

"Really, now?" Pansy said, exasperated. "You've got to tell him the truth."

"I'm not doing that!"

Pansy sighed. "Your pride will be the death of you."

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. At least on Draco's part. Pansy and Blaise started a conversation about the potions they'd brewed this term while Draco's mind was whirling. Could what Pansy was saying really be true? Even if it was, Draco couldn't just walk up to Potter now and confess his feelings. He'd already been rejected from a potential friendship once in First Year. That had been embarrassing and, if truth be told, rather painful enough. He didn't know if he could take the possibility of being rejected with this too. Besides, Potter was the supposedly brave one here, if he really liked him shouldn't _he_ come out and say it? _Maybe that's what last night was about_, his inner Pansy said in his mind. Still, Draco needed some way to test Potter. To see if it was really true.

While Draco was thinking of a way to do just that, Pansy and Blaise were wondering what potion they'd be brewing next lesson.

None of them thought either question would have the same answer.

* * *

"Amortentia!" Slughorn announced. "I trust you should all know by now what this potion is. But for those who slacked off in Sixth Year…" Slughorn looked pointedly at Draco. Draco scowled back at him, he really hated having a Potions Professor who didn't like him.

Slughorn started to pace around the room, his giant belly the centre of his gravity and continued talking, "It is the most powerful love potion in the world. The power behind the potion depends on the amount administered, so one drop of it will create an infatuation to the degree of a regular crush with the subject still being able to act sensibly while a whole cup of it will result in quite the humiliating obsession. Though the effects will be nil of course, if the subject is already infatuated by whoever administered the potion. And this afternoon, you shall all be brewing it."

Excited chatter filled the room but Draco could only hear the words _the effects will be nil if the subject is already infatuated by whoever administered the potion._

"Yes, yes, love potions do always cause a stir. Now, the instructions are on the board. You have till the end of the class for you and your partner to brew it. The best one will receive a vial of Amortentia."

The class was shocked into silence.

"I'm kidding!" Slughorn chuckled. "Now _that _would cause quite the stir. Carry on, carry on."

Potter turned to whisper in Draco's ear, "He's really gone loopy, hasn't he?"

Draco merely shrugged, tense from having Potter so close to him. He stood up suddenly. "I'll get the ingredients."

Later, when they were nearly finished with the potion, and the aroma wafted into the air, Potter asked him a question: "So, what do you smell?"

Draco stopped stirring. "That's rather personal."

Potter nodded. "Right. Sorry." Draco carried on stirring before Potter spoke up again, "It's just… we'll know if we're brewing it right if it smells like the things we're actually most attracted to."

Draco was silent for a moment. "Fine. I smell rain and the wood of my broomstick."

"You only smell two things?"

"Yes," Draco lied.

"Oh."

Draco continued stirring.

"And that's what you're attracted to?"

"Yes," he replied coolly.

"Guess the potion works then."

Draco eyed Potter. "What about you?"

"I smell the wood of my broomstick too," Potter said with a meaningful smile which got Draco wondering whether there was some kind of insinuation there. "As well as treacle tart and… a minty citrus."

It was rather unfortunate, Draco realised, that he had no idea what he smelt like. He should ask Pansy. Or maybe he should just try rubbing treacle tart all over himself.

"A Quidditch match in the rain must really get you off then," Potter said rather playfully. "I should have noticed."

Draco clenched his jaw. "And for you, a Quidditch match with treacle tarts and mints and citrus?" Draco could have sworn he then heard Potter say something like, "Or just Quidditch with you and treacle tarts," under his breath.

"What was that?" Draco asked quickly.

"Nothing," Potter answered equally fast.

Draco narrowed his eyes. Either Potter said what Draco thought he said, or Draco was just hearing what he wanted to hear. As the result of Pansy's influence, no doubt. But if Draco could just swipe some of the potion, he wouldn't have to wonder for long.

He waited for a window of opportunity when Potter wasn't paying attention. Which was surprisingly narrow, seeing as Potter kept watching Draco and making idle chatter. Draco huffed, and was about to cause some kind of distraction himself before he heard an explosion on the other side of the room. Quickly, while Potter had his attention on Finnigan's cauldron—why he was still _taking_ potions Draco will never know—he swiped some of the Amortentia with a vial, careful not to touch any of the stuff, and dropped it in his pocket.

Potter turned to face Draco right after the deed was done, shaking his head softly. "Why he's still taking potions, I'll never know."

Draco smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Despite what happened in Potions class, Draco had time to reflect on it and he came to the conclusion that he simply heard what he wanted to hear. Since Draco was pretty sure that Pansy was full of it, he was equally sure that the Amortentia would work on Potter, even though he hoped it wouldn't. Which meant he needed the antidote, so he decided to brew it himself. As much as he might enjoy the idea of Potter being infatuated with him, if it was all just because of some potion, he'd rather have Potter hate him, in all honesty.

There was a nervous excitement in his stomach on the morning of his plan, the kind he'd get on Christmas Eve when he was a child. But this time, instead of presents, it was potential Potter infatuation, and it would either be real or synthetic. He tried not to imagine what would happen if the infatuation really _was_ real, he didn't want to get his hopes up, after all. Because hailstorms never happen here, Draco reminded himself. Even so, the whole ordeal had him all jittery at the very chance of hail.

Here it was, the moment of truth. Draco had managed to slip one drop of Amortentia in Potter's goblet with a flick of his wand. _There should really be some kind of anti-charm here for things like this_, Draco thought.

"Watch closely," he muttered to Pansy and Blaise. "If Potter starts acting like he likes me, then he doesn't _really_ like me. But if Potter _doesn't_ seem to like me, then he actually does."

"I have no idea what you just said." Blaise was spreading jam onto his toast. "Is it opposite day or something? Ah but it can't be, you wouldn't be mentioning Potter at all then."

"Oh, it's too early for this, Draco," Pansy complained, fingers massaging her temples. "I stayed up all night doing that Potions essay. Have you done yours?"

Draco nodded absently. He should have chosen a seat with a better view of Potter.

"I'm surprised you had the time to do it with all those thoughts of Potter clouding your mind."

Draco glared at him. "I do have thoughts other than Potter. For example, this bacon?"—he pointed at the bacon with his fork—"Disgusting."

"I'll have it then." Blaise took Draco's bacon, scraping his fork on the plate in the process, causing Pansy to press her fingers to her ears before she gave him a glare.

Technically though, the potions essay did have to do with Potter; he wrote it on the antidote for Amortentia. It wasn't hard to brew, only took a day.

"Focus, you two. We're about to find out if what you claim is really true, Pansy."

"All I see is Potter drinking out of his goblet."

"He's drinking it!?" Draco tried to see but the other students in the Great Hall were blocking his view. "Is he acting strange? Is he looking this way?"

"Nope."

Draco was moving his head this way and that, trying to see through the other students but all he could see was the top of Potter's head. Finally, he decided to just pay a visit himself. He got up and headed for the Gryffindor table.

"Draco, where are you going?"

"I wish it was opposite day," Blaise muttered.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, Harry was just finishing off his pumpkin juice before he placed the goblet down with a louder slam than he meant to.

"Uh, mate?" Ron nudged him on his right.

"Hm?"

"That was mine." Ron gestured to the goblet Harry had just drunk out of.

Harry looked at the table and saw that indeed, it was not his goblet; his was the one on the left. "Oh, sorry. Here, have mine." He passed Ron his own drink.

"You better not drink it, Ron," Ginny said in a voice that seemed so serious, Harry and Ron immediately looked at her. "It's probably contaminated. Why else would Harry give it to you?"

Ron stuck his tongue out at her. Ginny laughed. Harry was glad he and Ginny weren't awkward around each other since they broke up. On the contrary, Ginny remained one of his closest friends. There just wasn't that kind of desire for each other anymore. "War changes people," Ginny had said which Harry had been relieved to hear her say. Sometimes, like in Ron and Hermione's case, it brings people together, and other times, like he and Ginny—while it didn't necessarily drive them apart—it just made them realise that they both wanted different things. Though they still had a few things in common, like how they both went for blondes of their own gender. Ginny was with Luna now and Harry had his eyes on Malfoy since the start of the year. That was actually something Ginny liked to tease him about sometimes.

"Harry wouldn't do that." Ron held the goblet up. "I'm sure this pumpkin juice is perfectly safe."

Ginny shrugged. "If you die, it's your own fault."

He actually paused.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Ron, just drink out of mine if it makes you feel better," Hermione said once she looked up from the Ancient Runes notes that were taking up half the table.

"No, no, this is my drink now. You just go back to studying for the exams that won't come around for ages."

Hermione gawked. "Our NEWTs are in a few weeks!"

"Yeah. Like Ron said, ages," Harry said.

Ron clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder cordially then finally gulped his pumpkin juice down. He was still drinking it when his eyes widened at something behind Harry.

"Potter!"

Harry swivelled his head around to see Draco Malfoy walking up to them. Harry's stomach flipped. He looked as impeccable as ever, each strand of his hair seemed to be perfectly in place, it made Harry want to mess it up. "Yes?"

"How are you?"

Harry blinked. That was not was he was expecting. "Er, fine." Then he smiled. "Thanks."

"You don't feel any different from, say, yesterday?"

"No, feel about the same. Why? Should I be?"

"No. No, you shouldn't be. And you aren't." Malfoy looked incredibly delighted for some reason. Harry thought he would try to feel the same every day if that's what it would take for Malfoy to smile at him like that. "Actually, I did come here for a reason."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I was hoping we could talk in private."

Harry looked at the others around the table. Hermione seemed to be subtly listening and gave him an encouraging nod when he looked her way. Ginny was openly listening and had a sly smirk on her face. Ron, on the other hand, was staring at Malfoy and looking like he was going to be sick. Harry gave him a curious look but Ron just shook his head. "Sure," Harry said and got up from his seat.

Once Harry and Malfoy left the Great Hall, Ron dropped his head in his hands with a groan. This was very bad.

* * *

Draco couldn't believe it, Pansy was right! Potter really did like him! Draco almost did something as senseless as skip his way to the Hogwarts grounds with Potter.

Once they got to the grassy area by the lake, they stopped. "Alright, Potter." Draco looked at him straight in the eye. _Best to be forthright. _"I have feelings for you. Romantic ones."

Draco waited for the returning declaration of love but Potter just stood there, looking confused. For one horrifying moment, Draco thought that he was mistaken. That the potion wasn't brewed right, or the goblets got switched, something.

"Please tell me you do too," Draco blurted before he could think better. He almost smacked himself in the head. He was an idiot. Something went wrong with the potion and Potter didn't actually like him. And now Potter was going to make fun of him for it. Or worse, let him down gently. Either way it was crushing. He shouldn't have listened to Pansy. He was going to kill her when he got back. And Slughorn too, for making them brew the stupid Amortentia. And Potter as well, for making Draco feel that way about him when he didn't feel the same way back.

But just as Draco was starting to feel the beginnings of heartbreak, Potter smiled and miraculously, he said, "I do."

"What?" Draco wasn't sure he heard right.

Potter laughed. "I like you too." Amazingly, it seemed that he did. He was smiling and looked to be in about as much wonderment as Draco was.

Draco was so relieved he could fall to the ground. But he was also so overjoyed he could float up to the clouds. His emotions were telling his body to go in so many different directions, he decided to go the only way they all agreed upon, and moved closer to Potter.

Potter stepped closer too. "Thought you said if you fancied someone it wouldn't be me?"

"I may have lied about that."

Potter let out a soft huff and shook his head but there was a quirk to his lips as he looked back up at Draco. "You're unbelievable."

"I know." Draco just stared at him because Potter was looking at him in a way that made it rather hard to look anywhere else. Draco swallowed. "Does this mean we're…?" The word refused to come out of Draco's mouth.

Potter grinned. "Boyfriends?"

Draco wanted to roll his eyes in distaste but really, a thrill ran up him at the very idea that Potter actually wanted this. Potter, who had never even wanted to be his friend, somehow, for some reason, wanted to be his boyfriend. Draco nodded.

Potter slowly took Draco's hand, causing tingles to shoot up through his arm. Their fingers linked but then Potter started to swing their hands together like the idiot he was. Draco raised an eyebrow at the hand-swinging and Potter instantly stopped before he rubbed his neck with his other hand. He didn't really look like he knew what he was doing.

Which reassured Draco, so he pulled on the hand that was holding his, pulling Potter along with it before they stood centimetres apart. They were sharing breaths now, and Potter was leaning in, and Draco knew that they were going to kiss.

But as Draco closed his eyes, he instead felt something on his nose, leaving a wet mark. He opened his eyes.

"Did you just kiss my nose?" Draco asked in a voice of outrage.

"Your nose,"—Potter kissed it again—"your cheeks,"—Potter kissed those too—"your chin." Potter continued to pepper kisses all over his face. It was ridiculous. He was like a puppy. An adorable puppy.

Draco didn't think being with Potter would be like this. Because of their history, every scenario he imagined was rough and quick and if he was going for something realistic, there would be no feelings involved—on Potter's part at least. Instead, Potter was bloody kissing his nose.

And Draco loved it.

He didn't understand all that much why Potter liked him. But he decided not to question the good things in life.

* * *

There were several different reactions around the Great Hall when Harry and Malfoy walked in together, holding hands. Harry noticed how shocked Parkinson looked at first, before she just shook her head and grinned. If she was mouthing something like "I told you so," Malfoy seemed to be ignoring it. Zabini looked halfway between relieved and annoyed. Hermione gave Harry a brief but warm smile before she went back to her Ancient Runes notes. Ginny was predictably wiggling her eyebrows.

What Harry didn't notice though, was Ron staring blankly at their hands while a strange and absurd sort of envy bubbled up in his stomach.

* * *

**A/N: **I belatedly realised after I'd already finished writing and posting this that the time span seems too short for a full year (it's like it's only been a term before they do their NEWTs ), so just pretend that because it's 8th year, they're taking an accelerated year that only goes for a term and I just forgot to mention it. (I'm mentioning it now instead—I know, it's cheating but what are author's notes for? Kidding. Sort of)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

Two weeks later, Draco Malfoy walked into the Great Hall with a staggering smile on his face. So bright, it blinded the first years—or at least that was what Draco liked to think. It was pleasing to imagine his joy causing pain in others.

He reached the Slytherin table and served himself breakfast, his smile never once going away. Harry Potter looked equally happy over by the Gryffindor table.

"God, Draco, your smitten is showing."

"I'm not wearing mittens," Draco said absently, now gazing at Harry from across all the other tables. They made sure to always sit so they had a perfect view of each other nowadays. Though, oddly enough, it wasn't that different from how they normally sat through all of their Hogwarts years. This time it was just intentional.

"Hello?" Pansy snapped her fingers in front of Draco before he blinked out of his stare. "You know we have our NEWTs coming up soon? Have you studied at all since you and Potter got together?"

"Yes, actually, we've been studying in the library."

Blaise snorted. "I wouldn't call that studying."

"Well, studying and some other things." Draco made a funny movement with his hand, it looked like he was catching an invisible snitch that Harry threw over to him.

Blaise looked back and forth between them. "Are you two actually _blowing kisses_ at each other?"

Draco's face heated a little. "You're just envious of our love," he sniffed.

"Pfft, please."

Pansy huffed. "If I knew you'd act like this once you got together I never would have told Potter you like him."

Draco suddenly turned to her, eyes bright. "Pansy, I am eternally grateful for your meddling. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you."

Pansy smirked. "I want you to stop acting like a fool."

"That can't be helped," Blaise remarked.

"I still find it funny that you managed to snag Potter with a love potion because it _didn't_ work on him. That's not the way one normally uses that potion."

"Well I don't very well want his feelings for me to be fake. And now I know they're genuine." Draco smirked then added with a wink, "And speaking of fake, he was certainly not faking last night."

Blaise lowered the sausage that was half-way up to his mouth. "God, Draco, I'm eating here."

"So was I." Draco's smirk stretched into a grin.

Blaise pushed his plate away, nose crinkled.

"What do you think Weasley's problem is?" Pansy asked suddenly. The other two looked over at the Gryffindor table to see him glowering at Harry. "He's been acting funny lately."

"As opposed to the usual?"

"You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Can't say I have," Draco said with a shrug. Despite the fact that Weasley was best friends with Harry, Draco couldn't really care less about him. Harry probably wouldn't be pleased to hear that, Draco thought. Maybe he _should_ make the effort.

"Of course, what was I thinking? The only thing you _ever_ notice has messy hair and glasses and his name rhymes with otter."

"Now you're just both envious," Draco said haughtily. "But no matter, I'm sure there'll be plenty of available people for you at our wedding."

"Wedding?" Pansy laughed. "You're getting a little ahead of yourself there."

"All in due course."

Pansy shook her head and smiled. "I'm happy for you, Draco, really. I just hope we all pass these NEWTs. They're the only chance I've got at getting a ministry job. Hopefully it'll be enough."

"Hey, if they won't accept the children of Death Eaters, ex-Death Eaters and Slytherins then we'll just start our own business." Blaise seemed to have gained his appetite back as he was cutting his sausage into smaller pieces. "Call it 'Fuck the Ministry.'"

Pansy snorted and suggested some more suitable names while Draco drifted off into his own daydream of life after Hogwarts with Harry. They'd have their own flat, Draco thought. Harry would be an Auror and Draco might be a Potions Master. Draco would brew all the necessary potions, Harry would fight all the necessary crime, and together, there would be hundreds of stories to tell. He wanted to do it all with Harry.

Which was similar to what Harry said later on in the afternoon when they were down by the lake. The place where they got together, Draco thought fondly.

Harry had Draco pinned down on the grass. Their hands were linked on either side of Draco's head. Harry was gazing down at him, almost in awe.

"God, I just want to do everything with you." He hovered his lips above Draco's, so close that Draco could almost close the gap but then he changed direction and ran his tongue up along Draco's neck, stopping to nibble on his earlobe.

Draco let out what he would have thought to be an undignified noise, but he was too far gone to care. That was the thing about Potter. It wasn't all just cutesy hand holding—though that was admittedly rather nice—it also had Draco's blood burning and toes curling.

Harry raised his head and Draco tried to follow it with his mouth but he couldn't reach. He tried to kiss him again but Harry kept dodging him.

"Look at you." Harry looked amused now, the prat. "You want it so bad," he whispered. "You want _me_ so bad."

Draco glowered at him, which probably wasn't very intimidating, considering his rumpled state. "Shut up and kiss me, Potter."

Draco considering pushing him over and pinning Harry down himself but then Harry finally bent his head back down to smash their mouths together and Draco was pleased again.

It was just getting good when they heard a cough. Draco decided to ignore it, it was awfully rude for someone to be experiencing throat problems while they were in the middle of something. _Unless_, Draco thought wickedly, _that throat problem was due to Harry's rather large—_

The cough persisted and Harry looked up. Draco almost whined at the loss and turned his head to the side to glare at whoever it was who interrupted them.

It was Weasley.

"Ron?" Harry lifted himself up with his arms to face him, still hovering above Draco. "We're a little busy here."

"This can't wait." Weasley looked stricken.

Harry seemed to notice this since he sighed and looked down at Draco. "I'll be back soon."

Draco was still glaring at Weasley but he looked at Harry nodded. It was odd; when Harry kissed Draco on the nose before he got up, Weasley seemed to grow livid, like he only just stopped himself from lunging at them.

Then Harry and Weasley were gone and Draco was left by the tree, willing his body to calm down as he looked up at the leaves.

* * *

"So what's up, Ron?" Harry had followed Ron straight to their Gryffindor dorm room. Ron didn't say a word the whole way up. Once they got there, Harry hesitantly sat on his four poster bed.

Ron let out a long breath, as though he'd been holding it the whole way here. He sat down heavily on the adjacent bed. "I think I have to break up with Hermione."

"WHAT?" Harry almost jumped up from his bed. "Why!?"

"I'm in love with someone else."

Harry stared and waited for Ron to scream 'April Fools' or something equally cruel, but it never came. Finally, Harry asked, "Who?"

Ron looked up sheepishly, he seemed to struggle with getting the words out but he managed to say, "It's Malfoy."

There was a very long and uncomfortable silence.

"That's not funny."

"I know! It's not," Ron said earnestly, jumping to his feet. "But it's true."

Harry said nothing.

"I just can't help it. Every time I see him or think about—"

"Oh god, stop!" Harry couldn't bear to hear any more of Ron gushing about Draco. Was that what Harry sounded like when he was talking about him? Harry paused. "Oh I get what this is about," he said slowly. "You're making fun of the way I feel about him!"

"No! I almost wish I was, Harry. But I'm not. I genuinely think I love him."

They stared at each other for a lengthy time. Harry hadn't even told Draco he'd loved him yet. Or vice versa. Again, he waited for Ron to surely start laughing this time, but again, he never did.

"You're serious," Harry said flatly. "I don't get it. For one thing, you're the straightest guy I know."

"I thought I was too!"

"You think you're like me then?"

Ron shook his head. "It's not like that. I don't like blokes at all. It's just"—Ron pulled a very nasty face, like he'd just taken a bite out of a lemon—"_Malfoy_."

Harry let out a harsh breath. "It's really fucking weird to hear you say that, mate. Right when I'm going out with him—"

"Well that's when it started! Before you got together. Ever since that morning in the Great Hall when I took your drink instead of…" Ron trailed off.

Once more, a rather long and uncomfortable silence filled the room before Ron fell back on his bed. "Well this is just Sixth Year all over again."

Harry's mind was working a mile a minute. "The drink was for me," he whispered. Suddenly, everything seemed like a lie. The Amortentia he and Draco had brewed in Potions class, Draco asking him odd questions about how he was feeling, Harry's feelings for Draco in general. "Draco tried to give me a love potion!" He got up furiously and took out the Marauder's Map. Draco was still by the lake.

"Wait, get me the antidote!" Ron shouted as Harry stormed out of the room. "Please! I don't know how you can bear it!"

"Go get Slughorn!" He heard Harry shout through the doorway.

* * *

Draco was still lying by the tree, thinking about Pansy's comment earlier in the morning about Weasley. He was forced to conclude that Pansy was right; Weasley _was_ acting strange and he finally noticed it. But really, that was only because Weasley's strange behaviour actually affected him—and more importantly, him andHarry—this time. Weasley better have had a good reason for interrupting them. Draco pulled out some of the grass from the ground.

All thoughts of Weasley flew from his mind when he saw Harry appear, stalking up to him. He stood up before Harry pushed him against the tree, his back hitting the bark.

"Ah, picking up where we left off, are we?" Draco grinned while waggling his eyebrows. He wrapped his hands around Harry's waist before they were pried off and held apart painfully tight.

"Care to tell me why Ron was in love with you?"

Draco blinked. "What?"

Harry just waited.

"You can't be serious? That's disgusting." Draco pulled an incredibly revolted face—though considering it was Weasley, it was probably lacking, really. "But I suppose I am pretty irresistible." Quick as a flash, Draco's revulsion was replaced with the waggling of his eyebrows again. "You don't need to be jealous, Harry, you know you're the only one for me."

He tried to reach for Harry once more but Harry just pushed him against the tree again. This time Draco didn't see the playfulness of it anymore, something was wrong. "Or maybe it's because of a love potion." Harry's voice was low and deadly.

Draco tilted his head slightly in confusion before realisation dawned on him.

"Yeah, that's right," Harry spat. "The potion that was meant for me? Ron drank it."

Draco didn't say anything, he just stared as Harry got progressively angry. Harry never took the potion. Draco had confessed to him with the very real possibility of Harry rejecting him.

"You don't have anything to say about that? You tried to give me a love potion!"

There was a horrible lump in Draco's throat and he found that he could not speak. This was all going wrong. Harry thought Draco would stoop so low as to try to put him under a love potion. Well, _he did. _But not like that.

"You know," Harry continued, "I thought you changed. When you didn't tell Bellatrix it was me, when you apologised after the war. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe you really are just as malicious as I once thought." He released Draco's wrists. "How do I know you didn't put a love potion on me all this time? Before the start of the year?"

Draco finally managed to snap out of it. "What? No! I wouldn't do that."

"But you did! You tried to."

Draco shook his head frantically. "If I really did, would I have lied to you when you asked if I fancied you at the party?"

Harry gave him a hard look. "Okay," he conceded. "But I just don't feel comfortable being with someone who'd put me under a love potion. You know, that's what _Voldemort's mum_ did to Voldemort's _dad_!"

"What!" Draco said, affronted. "So now I'm just like the Dark Lord's parents!?"

"You can't even say his real name still!"

"NO ONE CAN!" Draco's shout rang through the area. The same place where they first got together two weeks ago. "No one other than _you_ can because you're so bloody _brave_ and _perfect_ and I'm just…"

Harry shook his head and took a step back. "I'm not going to stroke your ego anymore, Draco. We're done."

* * *

**A/N: **One more chapter to go!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

It was hailing. Draco thought the weather was probably having a good laugh at him. Of course the weather picked _now _to show him that he was wrong, that the sky really could drop stones of ice, that Potter really could like him back. But what good was that now? Potter hated him again. Not only was Draco Malfoy not good enough to be like Harry Potter, he wasn't good enough to be with him either.

Maybe he should just forget about Potter all together. Draco would be able to make room for much more important things on his mind. Like the NEWTs that were coming up. And becoming a Potions Master after Hogwarts. And living on his own in a flat… with no Auror Potter… and no wedding… and no stories to tell.

Draco sighed. This 'not thinking about Potter' thing was harder than he thought.

He dragged himself into the Great Hall, not even caring how wounded and pathetic he must have looked. If there were flowers around, they would surely droop in gloom, whereas before they would have shrivelled in fear at Draco's Almighty Wrath.

"Aw, had your first fight?" Pansy rubbed his shoulder in comforting circles, all the while continuing to feed herself toast. As though the matter wasn't important enough to have her full attention on.

She was acting too casual for Draco's liking, surely this should be mind-blowing news. "You knew we would fight?"

Pansy gave him a look which said yes, she actually had some intelligence, did Draco forget? "It's you and Potter," she said flatly. Like it was obvious.

Draco sighed as he rested his head on his palm. "It was more than that, Pans. We broke up."

"Did you do something stupid?"

"Why do you assume it's me who's at fault here? But no, Potter found out I tried to give him a love potion and he got upset."

"Well, did you explain?"

Draco had tried to explain but he froze up when Potter got mad. Hearing him being accused of evil—though maybe it shouldn't have come to as much of a surprise as it should have—was, to be honest, rather hurtful.

Draco shook his head. "Maybe I'm just not good enough for him."

"DRACO!"

Draco jolted and turned to see that it was Blaise who had suddenly shouted his name, causing everyone within the vicinity to turn their heads too.

"All you've ever wanted was Potter. In our very first year, you wanted to be his friend. Then you tormented him for years because he _wouldn't_ be your friend. And now this year you've finally realised you want to be his boyfriend. All year, all of Hogwarts even, all you've ever talked about was Potter. Potter this, Potter that. I'm bloody well sick of it! But finally, _finally_, when you get what you actually want, you're not even going to _try_ with him? Honestly, your relationship was never going to be a walk in the park. You're going to have to try hard to get it to work with him. And right now, you're not even trying!"

That was possibly the most Draco had ever heard Blaise speak at a time. A silence hung over the three of them. All that could be heard was Blaise's breathing.

Finally, Pansy broke it. "He's right, Draco. And what's this 'not good enough for him' nonsense? You're fabulous, remember?"

Draco stared at his two friends. They both put up with so much for him, but they were both still here. They believed in him and Harry. But most of all, they believed in Draco. Believed that he was worth it. "I'm fabulous," he whispered.

"Exactly." Blaise nodded. "Now go get Potter."

And so Draco did. He got up from the Slytherin table and headed to the Gryffindor one.

Blaise heaved a sigh and relaxed in his seat. Pansy was smirking at him.

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

Thanks to Draco bloody Malfoy, Harry was now wary of drinking anything in the Great Hall again. He asked Hermione to check for anything in his drink and once it was deemed fine, he hesitantly took a sip.

He couldn't believe he thought Malfoy had changed. Sure, he seemed so different now, and he still missed the way they were before, and it hurt to think about these things, but Harry just couldn't trust him anymore. He didn't like the uneasy feeling he got when he saw him now.

More than anything, he didn't understand _why_. Why Draco—no, _Malfoy,_ Harry reminded himself—had felt the need to give him a love potion in the first place. It was Malfoy who said he didn't fancy Harry.

Harry could tell that Malfoy had some self-esteem issues. Maybe he really never did fancy Harry, maybe he just wanted someone to fancy him, to boost his own ego. Harry sighed, he didn't know what to think anymore.

Harry looked up at his friends and noticed that they were all treating him with caution, giving him space in case he might blow up, but also giving him sympathetic looks. Those looks changed to ones of rage when they saw something behind Harry's shoulder.

"Harry."

Harry stiffened. He knew that voice. He turned around to see Draco Malfoy. He looked about as bad as Harry felt. His hair was in disarray and it looked like he hadn't even bothered to wear his tie on properly. But there was a strange light in his eyes, something that looked like determination.

"Go away, Malfoy," Ginny said with venom. "No one wants you here."

Ron spun around to face Malfoy. "Come to test out more of your love potions? You're gonna pay for what you did to me, Malfoy." He glanced to his left. "And what you did to Harry too."

"Believe me Weasley, I feel as sick as you do at the very prospect," Malfoy said quietly, eyes on Harry.

The plates surrounding Ron were pushed away as he started to get up but Hermione held him down.

Harry sighed. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I need to explain."

Harry stared at him for a moment. "Fine."

He got up from his seat before Hermione said, "Harry." He looked at her, she just looked back at him, but Harry knew what she was trying to say; _be careful._

Harry nodded and walked off with Malfoy. By the time they left the Great Hall he knew Malfoy wanted to go to the grassy area by the lake so he stopped him. "You sure we should go outside? Wasn't it hailing earlier?"

Malfoy had a strange look on his face from this for some reason, but then he said, "It should be fine now." He then added in a smaller voice, "But hopefully it'll hail again soon." He seemed to give Harry a significant look at that but Harry didn't know he was talking about.

They reached their spot by the lake. The one where they first got together and the one where they broke up. Harry's shuffling came to an end once they go to the tree. Malfoy turned to face him.

* * *

Draco took a deep breath. The grass was still wet and there was pebble sized ice littered on the ground. Draco crushed one with his foot before he spoke,

"So I'm a coward. A coward who has feelings for you. I couldn't very well go up to you and confess and I was terrified when you asked me at the party because I thought you were going to humiliate me or something. But then Pansy was going on about how you liked me so I needed a way to test if you really did."

Draco looked at him earnestly and continued, "I never wanted you to have fake feelings for me. That wasn't what the Amortentia was for. I brewed the antidote. I had it ready in case the potion worked, which I was sure it would. But it didn't. Of course, that was because Weasley took it instead. But I thought at the time that you really must have had real feelings for me. So I confessed. And here we are."

Harry let that sink in. "I see." He kicked the ice pebbles around with his foot. "I still don't like the idea of being under a love potion though. Even if it was temporary. Who knows what I could have done under the influence of it?"

Draco paled. Was his explanation not enough? Was Harry really going to hate him forever?

"And you put Ron through torture for weeks. He was going to break up with Hermione, you know!"

Draco stared hard at the ice on the ground. It wasn't enough. The ice was there, it had hailed, but that wasn't enough.

"But," Harry said, "Now that I know the whole story and your intentions… that does make it better."

Draco snapped his head up.

"Honestly, Draco," he sighed, "you put so much unnecessary planning into this. You could've just _asked_ if I fancy you."

"Like you did?" Draco snorted. "Yes, that went rather well."

Harry quirked his lips. Draco missed seeing that. "I wouldn't have lied."

They were silent, just looking at each other. Until Draco bent to the ground to pick up an ice pebble. He then took Harry's hand and placed it on his palm.

"Ah!" Harry shook his hand away. The ice dropped back to the ground. He wiped his palm on his trousers. "That's cold! What was that for?"

"It was symbolic, you idiot." Draco sniffed but then smiled. "You're my hailstorm."

Harry tilted his head like an adorable puppy. "I cause harm and destruction?"

"Something like that."

"Wow, thanks. You really know how to charm people."

"I am very charming, yes," Draco agreed with a nod. "And fabulous," he added, "In fact, if I wasn't me and already had a thing for you, I might even have a crush on myself."

Harry laughed and stepped closer. "Lucky for me that you're you."

"Yes," Draco said brightly, "You are lucky."

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and brought them closer.

"Pansy thinks we'll fight a lot," Draco whispered as he brought them even closer by draping his arms around Harry's neck. His fingers sank into Harry's hair, threading through softly, pleased that he could do this again.

"She's probably right," Harry said before he pressed his mouth against Draco's.

As kisses go, this one was usual and wonderful all at once. It was the start of many more to come, and Draco didn't think he could ever get tired of it. Standing here, with Harry by the tree, ice sprinkled around them on the ground like a celebration, the joy in Draco matching the ceaselessness of Harry's lips, Draco believed that he was more than good enough. It didn't go one way. They were kissing as one, as equals. He was not better and he was not worse. He might have failed to be the Harry Potter of the Dark Side, but that was because that wasn't who he was; he was Draco. And that didn't make him any less.

Draco's feelings for Harry may have been based on envy, but underneath it all, there was always that yearning for him which grew now into something like love. And as Harry pulled back to kiss Draco on the nose, he thought that he much preferred it that way anyway.

The End


End file.
